


Dean's rule

by faithfully



Series: Soaked Verse [4]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Frottage, M/M, Watersports
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-03-13
Updated: 2014-03-13
Packaged: 2018-01-15 14:50:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1308814
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faithfully/pseuds/faithfully
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean has lots of rules for the Impala, no dogs in the car, no sex in the car, no pissing in the car. The last one is the only one that remains unbroken. Until now.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Dean's rule

**Author's Note:**

> Sam is 23, Dean is 27.  
> Contains deliberate wetting and frottage.

Sam and Dean were on the road again. They spent so much time driving that Sam was beginning to feel strange when they stopped; like he wasn’t comfortable unless they were in motion. They’d spend a few days here or there, but their home was the road, and by extension, the Impala.

They ate in the car, slept in the car, fucked in the car, did pretty much every activity one could conceivably do in a car at one time or another. But there had always been one thing Dean didn’t allow in the car.

“Dean, I gotta take a leak, pull over at the next stop.”

“Come on, man, we stopped at a gas station like an hour ago, how can you possibly have to go again?”

“It was two hours ago, and if you stayed hydrated the way you’re supposed to, you’d have to go too.” Sam finished his second bottle of water for the day and tossed the empty container in the back. He’d refill them once they got to wherever it was they were heading to today.

“Hydrated? I swear you’re making that crap up. You’re not a fish, you shouldn’t have to drink that much.”

“It’s good for you and your body would thank you if you’d give it a try.”

“I’ll pass.”

“It’s your funeral.” Sam tapped his fingers on his knee and tried to think about anything that wasn’t the growing pressure in his bladder. “How far out are we from the next town?”

Dean glanced at the clock and squinted like he did when he was doing some mental math. “Dunno, 50 miles, maybe?”

Sam sighed. He’d been hoping for something closer. “I swear you plan this on purpose?”

Dean laughed. “You’re the one chugging water like it’s going out of style.”

Dean had a point, but Sam wasn’t going to concede just yet. “But you’re the one who made me wait so long the other day I pissed myself on the bathroom floor.”

“I still say you got yourself into that one.”

“If you had just stopped the first time I asked it wouldn’t have happened.”

“Yeah, but then you would have missed out on the mind-blowing orgasm I gave you in the parking lot.”

“You know if you get hot watching me piss myself there are better ways to do it than forcing me to hold it until I’m literally bursting.”

Dean smirked but didn’t reply.

“We still haven’t talked about…whatever this is.”

“Do we have to?” Dean asked, looking annoyed.

“I think we should.”

“You act like you know everything already. What’s to talk about?”

“Well…” Sam was at a loss for words. How exactly does one breach the subject of “fucking my brother apparently isn’t kinky enough for me, what really gets me off is pissing myself in front of him?”

“Exactly. It’s a thing. We have things. Our lives are weird, man, and that’s hardly the weirdest thing about them, so I for one am not going to think too hard about this.”

“Yeah, okay. Seriously, though, if you don’t stop this time I’m going to use one of the bottles in the back; I don’t care about your stupid rule.”

“You’re not pissing in a bottle. It’ll spill and make a mess and I’ll be the one cleaning it up because you’ll find some way to say it’s my fault.”

“It will be your fault for not stopping when I ask you to.”

“Where am I supposed to stop, Sam? You gonna piss on the side of the road?”

“If I have to, yes! But I can’t do that if you won’t stop the car.”

Dean was quiet for a moment. “I just like it when you lose control,” he muttered.

Sam swallowed hard and nodded, his frustration ebbing away. “I like it too, but you have to admit it’s a little inconvenient.”

Dean scrubbed a hand over his face, staring hard at the road. “There’s a tarp in the trunk.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. We could put it on the seat.”

“You’re serious?”

“Do I sound like I’m joking? You’re the one who wanted to talk about this, I’m just being practical.”

Sam took a deep breath, trying to quell the excitement growing in his belly. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Dean pulled the car over on a dirt road and they got out, pulling the tarp out from under a stash of holy water and rosaries. It had a devil’s trap in dusty orange spray paint on one side so they folded it with that side in and put it on the passenger seat.

Sam sat down stiffly. He still had to go pretty bad but somehow the ceremony of it all was making him nervous. “This is awkward,” he said.

“Come here.” Dean helped him out of the car again and instead sat himself where Sam had been sitting and patted his lap. “We’ll sit and make out and if something happens, it happens. If not, no big deal.”

Butterflies fluttered in Sam’s stomach. No way Dean knew this was a fantasy of his. “Okay.” He straddled Dean’s lap and Dean pulled the car door shut, quieting the noise of the highway behind them and enclosing them in a world that was just the two of them.

They didn’t fit in the car as easily as they had when they were kids, but they still managed to make it work. Dean kissed and sucked at Sam’s neck as Sam fought to keep his breath even and calm. He needed to relax if this was going to happen the way he wanted it to.

“How you doing?” Dean asked, and Sam knew what he was referring to.

Sam took a deep breath but was cut off by Dean shifting his position slightly so his crotch rubbed up against Sam’s. He was already hard, and the sudden friction interrupted Sam’s thoughts. “Going to be a lot harder if you keep doing that.”

Dean smirked. “Sorry. It’s just, usually that would be the point.”

Sam punched him in the shoulder and kissed him on the lips, pressing his tongue between them.

Dean pushed Sam’s flannel shirt off his shoulders to stroke his arms as they kissed, open-mouthed. “It’s okay, Sammy, I got you,” he whispered when they pulled apart to breathe.

Sam forced his muscles to relax, but the next wave of desperation that hit him took him by surprise and he panicked which made him clinch up again. Dean seemed to understand what had happened because he began whispering words of encouragement in Sam’s ear.

Sam bit his lip and concentrated, and after a moment’s suspense, the first trickle made a small wet spot on the front of his jeans. Dean was still, probably holding his breath. Sam let out a little more, a slow trickle that soaked down his front and pooled in his crotch where his hips met Dean’s lap.

Dean gasped as he began to feel what Sam was feeling, the hot liquid running through his clothes and over his skin. It was all the encouragement Sam’s body needed. Soon piss was pouring out of him, a hot river flooding them both. Sam closed his eyes to give in completely to the sensation.

A great feeling of relief rushed over Sam, and when it had finally subsided he realized Dean was grinding their hips together, his hands on Sam’s ass, moving them against each other faster and harder. His eyes were squeezed shut and his head thrown back. His mouth was open, panting for breath. It was a beautiful sight.

Sam tipped his hips forward to give them both a better angle as they rubbed together. It didn’t take long for Dean to come, shuddering under Sam and muttering obscenities as his body finally stilled. Sam was still too blissed out from peeing to come yet so he wrapped his arms around Dean and pressed his face into Dean’s neck as they both caught their breath.

“Wow,” Dean whispered.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed.

“Remind me,” Dean said, pushing Sam back so they could look at each other, “Next town we hit. We’re getting plastic seat covers.”

“But what about your rule? No pissing in the Impala?”

Dean laughed. “And some towels. Changed my mind. As long as the cleanup isn’t too much of a bitch, pissing in the Impala can have some advantages.”

“Fewer stops?”

“More orgasms.”

Now it was Sam’s turn to laugh. “Yeah, alright. Figures you’d only change one of your rules when your dick is involved.”

“Damn straight!” Dean said with a wide grin. “Next stop, Laundromat?”

“Laundromat,” Sam agreed.


End file.
